Silver Hill (8 page)

Timmery peered at Jack.

‘Is it really too far?’

Jack nodded.

‘But you can cling onto my back, I don’t mind.’

Camelin frowned and grumbled to himself.

‘Don’t see why he has to come.’

‘Timmery needs to come along in case we have to look inside any of the caves.’

Jack waited for Camelin to respond but he didn’t.

‘That’s settled then, you’ll come over tonight as soon as the lights go out. I’d better get off now or I’m going to be late for my tea.’

‘Bet it’s not cheese and pickles,’ croaked Camelin.

Jack didn’t reply. He was sure Camelin would find an opportunity to eat something exciting before he saw him again. He ran down to the hedge and didn’t stop running until he reached Grandad’s house.

Jack excused himself early and went up to bed. He’d told Grandad he felt a bit tired, which wasn’t far from the truth. He’d done more that afternoon than he’d done for a week. His main concern was trying to get some sleep before it was time to fly over to the Westwood Roost but his mind was in turmoil. Too many questions kept popping into his head, questions he couldn’t answer. What if he was too tired to go to school in the morning? He desperately wanted to sing the solo at the concert. If he wasn’t there, someone else would take his place. What if Grandad found him gone? How could he explain? Even if he told the truth Grandad wouldn’t believe him. What if they got into trouble? No one would know where he’d gone, and worse still, he couldn’t tell anyone what he was planning to do. In the end he decided to write a note and leave it with Orin. If they did get into trouble at least Grandad would know where to start looking.

‘Do you understand what to do if I don’t come back?’ he asked her.

She nodded and repeated Jack’s instructions.

‘Keep the letter safe so no one sees it but if you’re not back by breakfast I’m to put it on your pillow where Grandad will find it.’

‘That’s the best I can do in case there’s a problem,’ said Jack sleepily.

He put his pyjamas on, opened the window and got into bed.

Jack’s room was in total darkness when he woke up. There was also a nasty smell. He wondered if some of the potion mixture had splashed onto his T-shirt. He sniffed the air as the smell grew more pungent. It was then he heard a deep snore. He moved his foot underneath the sheet until he found a heavy lump near the bottom.

‘Wake up!’ he whispered.

Jack waited but the snoring continued. He pushed Camelin with his foot and gently rocked him but instead of waking him it had the opposite effect. The snoring got louder. Finally Jack pushed him hard. He heard the fluttering of wings as Camelin rolled off the end of the bed.

‘What you do that for?’

‘You were snoring, loudly. You’ll wake Grandad.’

The smell of fried onions reached Jack’s nose.

‘Is that you making that awful smell?’

‘You fed me!’

Jack sniffed.

‘It smells like burger and chips to me!’

‘Well cheese and pickles don’t fill you up, not when you’ve got a long flight to make.’

Jack got up and opened the window wider to let in some fresh air.

‘Why didn’t you wake me?’

‘I got fed up waiting for the lights to go out so I came over early. It’s lonely over there on my own.’

‘I thought Timmery was with you?’

Camelin snorted.

‘Can’t get any rest while he’s there, it’s just talk, talk, talk.’

‘You should have woken me.’

‘You were asleep and I wanted to see what a proper bed was like. Nora doesn’t let me on them at home.’

‘I can’t imagine why!’

Jack reached for his wand and shone a light towards his clock.

‘We’d better transform and collect Timmery, it’s nearly midnight already. It’ll take us at least an hour to get there and maybe longer to get back if I’m tired. I haven’t flown for a couple of weeks. We need to get something straight before we set off – when I say it’s time to come back I mean it. And if I say no to anything, I mean that too.’

‘You get more and more like Nora every day,’ Camelin grumbled as he and Jack touched foreheads.

There was a blinding flash. Jack shook himself once he’d stepped out of his pyjamas. It felt good to be a raven again.

‘Ready?’

‘Ready.’

‘I don’t suppose Charkle’s back?’ asked Jack as they landed inside the bell tower.

Timmery flitted round their heads.

‘He isn’t. I do hope he’s alright.’

‘Climb on,’ Jack told Timmery.

Jack didn’t want to admit it but he wasn’t exactly sure how to get back to the Westwood Roost. He knew the general direction but in the dark everything looked different and there wasn’t even a moon tonight. He knew they didn’t have enough time to get lost.

‘What are we waiting for?’ asked Camelin.

Jack was relieved when Camelin took off from the bell tower. All he had to do now was follow.

As they flew over the fields Jack peered down but he couldn’t see any of the familiar landmarks. After a while he began to enjoy the flight. The weight of responsibility seemed to lift from his shoulders, he felt carefree and elated. He tried to bring his thoughts back to their problem but the raven part of him took over.

‘Whee!’ he croaked as a sudden impulse overtook him and he flew past Camelin on his back.

‘Thought you couldn’t do that?’

‘There’s nothing to fly into here.’

Jack became aware of Timmery flitting round his head.

‘I thought you were having a ride?’

‘I thought so too but I wasn’t holding on tightly enough. Do you think you could warn me the next time you’re going to turn over?’

‘Sorry, I don’t know what got into me.’

Camelin sniggered.

‘Come on, race you.’

It wasn’t a fair race. Camelin didn’t wait until Timmery had reattached himself. Jack knew he wouldn’t be able to beat Camelin but it did feel good to speed through the air. Occasionally Camelin flew upwards in a wide arc and did a triple loop-the-loop.

After a while Jack’s bones began to ache. He hoped it wasn’t much further. He’d been concentrating so hard on flying he’d not taken much notice of the landscape but even in the dark, he could see they were approaching a long stony ridge. Strange rock formations stood jagged and black on the horizon. He suddenly realised it was the same one his Book of Shadows had shown him. Jack felt a shudder run down his back. The place hadn’t looked too bad in his bedroom but now, as they flew towards it, he suddenly felt threatened.

‘What’s that place?’ he called to Camelin. ‘Over there on the horizon.’

‘They’re the crags of Stonytop Ridge. You don’t want to go up there after dark, especially on a moonless night.’

‘Why not?’

‘Don’t you know anything? Some of those rocks aren’t what they seem to be.’

‘How would I know, I’ve never heard of Stonytop Ridge before.’

Jack heard Timmery’s shrill voice in the still night air:

‘
When lightning flashes in a thunderstorm,
On Stonytop Ridge a Hag is born
.’

Jack shuddered again. He didn’t like the look of the crags or the sound of Stonytop at all. He looked at the sky, it might be dark but at least there was no sign of a storm.

Camelin flew alongside.

‘It’s Hag country, all round here. That rhyme’s as old as the crags themselves. Some say they come to life on stormy nights. There’ll be a crash of thunder, a flash of lightning, an ear-splitting crack, then bang! One minute you’re looking at a rock, the next it’s a Hag. All the bits of shattered stone up there are the remains of rocks that have exploded.’

Jack didn’t doubt there was some truth to what Camelin was saying. He knew mountaintops and ridges weren’t safe places to be in any kind of a thunderstorm, moon or no moon.

‘Do you think it’s true?’

‘Don’t know, but it’s where Hags go when they all get together, especially on moonless nights. You’d have a problem telling the difference between some of those rocks and Hags in the dark.’

Jack shuddered as he remembered their encounter with Finnola Fytche.

‘We’d better stay well away. The one Hag we’ve already met was one too many for me.’

Jack was glad Camelin didn’t disagree.

‘Are we nearly there?’ asked Timmery.

‘We are,’ shouted Camelin as he tilted his wings and began his descent. ‘Westwood Roost here we come!’

Jack could see the mouth of the cave as they came into land. Its gaping black mouth looked menacing. They were on their own this time: no magic, no Nora or Elan to help. Jack desperately tried to think of a plan. Neither he nor Camelin could see in the dark. He didn’t want to ask Timmery to go inside but it was the only solution. With any luck, if Camelin were right, Finnola Fytche wouldn’t be at home. She’d be out among the crags on the Ridge, doing whatever Hags did when they got together.

‘Would you mind taking a look around inside,’ Jack asked Timmery.

‘Of course he wouldn’t mind, that’s what we brought him for isn’t it? Aren’t you forgetting how brave he is?’ mocked Camelin.

‘He doesn’t have to go in if he doesn’t want to,’ said Jack firmly.

‘I’m fine,’ piped Timmery as he flitted around the entrance. ‘I’ll stay close to the roof and be in and out before you know it.’

‘You’d probably better not call out to Charkle, just in case anyone’s home. We don’t know what might happen if we disturb a Hag, do we?’ said Jack.

It wasn’t long before Timmery was back.

‘Anything?’ asked Jack.

‘Not a thing. It smells awful inside, not the kind of place bats would want to roost, or dragonettes either. I don’t know how anyone could live in all that mess.’

‘Me neither,’ agreed Jack looking meaningfully at Camelin.

‘My loft doesn’t smell.’

Jack’s eyes began to water as the faint odour of rotting cabbage wafted from the cave.

‘That wasn’t me, I don’t like boiled cabbage,’ Camelin snapped as Timmery opened his mouth to speak.

Jack wanted to laugh but managed to control himself.

‘This is serious and we don’t have much time.’

‘Why don’t we get up higher so we can have a better look around?’ suggested Camelin.

Jack looked over to the crags. They looked even darker and more forbidding from the ground.

‘I’m not happy about going up there tonight.’

‘What about Winberry Hill?’ said Timmery.

Jack didn’t have time to consider, Camelin was already airborne.

‘Come on you two, what you waiting for? Follow me.’

Jack turned so Timmery could climb onto his back.

‘It’s alright Jack, I’ll fly, it’s not far and we can keep a look out as we go.’

‘How far can you see in the dark?’

‘Quite a long way.’

Jack and Timmery flew after Camelin but Jack didn’t hurry to catch up. He was still thinking. He tried to imagine where he’d go if he was Charkle. It made no sense to go back to the Westwood Roost – they all knew Charkle’s family wasn’t there. Timmery said he’d told him about the map and the questions they’d asked.

‘What would I do?’ Jack asked himself. A sudden thought hit him like a thunderbolt, it was obvious: Charkle would be looking for Howling Hill. With any luck, he’d be around here somewhere.